Thursday, June 3, 2010

Lay With Me.

Well, another week is almost over! Where does the time go and how is it June already? It amazes me how time flies, I was just telling Doc how there is no possible way that I have lived for 35 years. My best years have been my thirties, by far. Don't get me wrong, me twenties were a BLAST, but it was a different kind of fun. My thirties have been filled with love, blessings and grace. They have been wonderful.

I remember being a kid and my parents talking about how quickly time went by, I was in my teens in the middle of a school year and thought, "yeah right!". But again, they were right. It goes by quickly and the older I get the more I try and cherish the little moments. Presley has just started to walk well, and I am having so much fun watching her explore the house, even on the days she obsesses over flushing the toilet! I don't want to miss anything. If I have learned anything over the last years it is that we don't know how much time He has planned for us so we better enjoy every second that we can!!

Sometimes this is not as easy as I would like with my teething 13 month old and my potty training two year old! Some days I have seen more poop and slobber than one woman should see in a lifetime. Just when I think I can't take anymore, my two year old with her poop covered butt in the air for me to wipe says, "is it gross mama?" I laugh out loud and remember how lucky I am that I am home to wipe her little butt everyday. Then we share some strawberries and read Snow White. God rocks!

By the end of my day I am beat, just like we all are after a full day of work. Doc comes home, we eat dinner, I make a quick wish for the kitchen to miraculously clean itself and out we go with the girls to catch lightning bugs. (Nope, it never happens but a girl has the right to dream.) Scooter is at that age where she wants immediate gratification and nothing is ever enough. Go to the park, cry all the way home for the sliding board, go get a treat, beg for another one for two get the point. So by the time we get her in, get her bathed, read her a story and get Presley relaxed enough and soothed enough to go to bed with her sore little mouth, I have had it. Then it comes, I say Scooter's prayers, kiss her goodnight, and as I am walking out she says. "mama, lay with me".

I am a good mama, the kind of mama that loves her babies more than life but still has boundaries and a routine that I stick too. I am aware of the manipulations of a two year old, how after weeks of trying to get them to say yes ma'am without prompting it slides right out of their little mouth at just the right time. I try not to baby my girls too much, I want them to be strong independent kids and Doc and I both parent for that.

Recently, I have come to a realization. As I am raising these girls and teaching them and watching them become independent, I better hold onto the moments where they still want mommy. I better cherish the extra hugs and kisses, the "mama play with me" requests. I better embrace the times where they look at me and need me or want me, whichever the case may be. Because one day, their butts won't need to be wiped and they won't want me to hold them in public. One day they will take their own bath, and make their own lunch. One day Snow White, with all of my cheesy character voices, will be lame rather than funny, she will say her own prayers, and when I kiss her goodnight and walk out, she will roll over, wipe off that kiss, and go to sleep. So until that day comes, I have decided that no matter how long the day, no matter how thin my patience has been worn, no matter how much I long for a break, if she asks me too, I'm going to lay with her. After all, one day I am going to wake up and another 35 years will have gone by. And, if my prayers are answered, my girls will have their own families and their own lives. I promise you that I don't want to look back and wish I had held them a little longer when I had the chance.

Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! Psalm 127: 3-5

Blessings sweet friends!

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